Questions of the Faith

[Cptn Corizon 0]

“You seem rather... well you're not nearly as excited as I anticipated,” Corizon said, looking towards the Vorta Lexin.

 

Lexin nodded. “I am... conflicted.”

 

“Conflicted?”

 

“My entire life... all four of them... I've been taught that the Founders are infallible,” he said looking out the window of the archive.

 

In the distance fog rose from the nearby lake and a mist had begun to settle in around the ruins of what had once been a key Satarimi base. The Dameon Captain and the Vorta Functionary had been looking over star charts when the the Excalibur Chief Science Officer had arrived with information about the probable location of the Founder's hideout during their exile.

 

“I doubt a man such as yourself can understand,” Lexin continued. “But the very idea of our gods having to... to hide from a race as brutish and savage as the Scorpiads is...”

 

“Rather shaking, I can imagine.”

 

“That's one way of putting it... and combined with our defeat at the hands of the Federation,” Lexin said, dispensing with his usual formality.

 

Corizon lifted an ear. The tone and mood of the Vorta had certainly swung in the last several hours, more than he could ever remember from any other Vorta, let alone Lexin. “If you don't mind me asking, you seem more upset that I've ever seen you... or really any Vorta.”

 

Exhaling, the Vorta sighed then let a small smile appear on his face. “Forgive me for my Lapse Captain,” he said, his tone returning to it's normal coolness. “I am just so frustrated that the Founders would leave us in such a predicament and give us such little guidance.”

 

Nodding, Corizon walked up behind the Vorta and patted him on the shoulder. “Oh to have such subjects...”

 

“You don't strike me as a religious man, Captain, but tell me, if I may be so bold, how did your race react to there decline? Did you blame the gods? Question their wisdom?”

 

Corizon considered the question. He'd spent his formative years training in a monastery, learning the old ways of his people, and such a statement caught him off-guard, but then religious to a Vorta and to a Dameon were two very different terms. After a moment, he formulated his response.

 

“My people never put too much stock in 'gods,'” he said. “Or at least not in a conceptual way that you would understand the word.”

 

“So you're pagan?”

 

Corizon laughed. “Not exactly. We hold that the Universe itself exists as a sort of god... as the One. It's difficult to explain, but in short it's far more... fatalistic of a belief system. The will of the One is what it will be and there is little you can do but play a part in a much larger system.”

 

The concept seemed unusual to the Vorta. “But to not hear the voice of your god...”

 

“The Vorta have enjoyed a luxury few cultures ever experience.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“Their gods actually happen to exist.”

 

Lexin wasn't sure what that was supposed to mean exactly, but he nodded anyway.

 

“The problem,” Corizon continued. “Is that now your gods are gone, and you've gotten so used to looking to them for direction that you cannot find your own path.”

 

The Vorta nodded, for infidel with a chip on his shoulder and a decided lack of tact, Corizon proved to have some sage wisdom. “Hopefully,” Lexin said, “We will be able to find the Founders before we have wandered to far from the path.”

 

“I've wondered,” Corizon replied. “Perhaps it would be best for your people if you didn't find the Founders.”

 

The idea was frightening, “What do you mean? The Dominion stands on the brink of collapse and you think it would be... good for us to not find the Founders?”

 

“You've been dependent on their guidance for so long, perhaps it is time for the Vorta to find their own way.”

 

Lexin shook his head. “The Vorta role is not of leader, but follower. We were made to facilitate, to carry out the will of the Founders, not lead the Dominion on our own.”

 

“And if we don't find the Founders?”

 

“Then I fear that one day our own race will be as the Satarimi. A lost and forgotten people. A house cannot stand without it's foundations Captain.”

 

Corizon nodded. “I suppose. Time will tell.”

 

“I only wish that the Founders would have given us... given us some clue as to their will.”

 

Clasping his hand on the Vorta's shoulder again, Corizon sighed. “Come on, we should get back to the Excalibur. I have a staff meeting planned to go over the information we've found so far. It looks like we finally have a lead.”

 

“Yes,” Lexin said. “That would be wise.”

 

Corizon removed his hand from Lexin's shoulder and began walking away from the open window. Lexin watched absently out the window for a long moment before speaking. “Captain,” he said.

 

“Yes,” Corizon said, pausing mid-stride.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“Just doing my job.”

 

“No,” Lexin said. “You could have turned back long ago, yet you've stayed the course. I know this must be exceedingly difficult for you, helping my people... after what we've done.”

 

“Like I said, I am doing duty. But for what it's worth, you're welcome.”

 

“I'll join you at the shuttle shortly. If you don't mind, I'd like a moment alone.”

 

“Of course. We'll wait for you before taking off.”

 

“Thank you, Captain. When this is over, I am going to recommend you for the Star of Azthura.”

 

“The what?”

 

“It is the highest honor that can be awarded to non-Vorta or Jem'hadar. It is traditionally awarded to a person who has done a great service to the Dominion, only five have been awarded in my lifetime, only to great heroes of the Dominion, champions of the Founders.”

 

“Thanks... just what I always wanted. To be remembered as Hero of the Dominion, Champion of the Founders...”

 

Lexin smiled as Corizon headed out of the room, muttering in his native language well into the hallway. As the great doors of the Orrery swing shut. He exhaled deeply. His faith was being tested, but hopefully his dedication would be rewarded with the salvation of the Dominion.